


What’s Cookin Good Lookin’

by SuperRedRobin (SweetFanfics)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Cooking, Food Fight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/SuperRedRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim and Kon try cooking together, but it is an effort in futility. A few backhanded comments here and there causes a food fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What’s Cookin Good Lookin’

**Author's Note:**

  * For [10-74](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=10-74).



“Preheat oven to 425 degree Fahrenheit, check.” Tim straightened up and then paused. “What are you doing?”

 

Kon looked up from his task of chopping vegetables, “Cutting the carrots like you asked. What’s it look like?”

 

“You’re supposed to cut them into bite sized pieces Conner. Not long slices!”

 

“Does it _really_ make a difference?” Kon huffed slightly in exasperation at Robin’s narrow eyed glare, “Right, gotcha. Cubes comin right up.”

 

After superspeeding his way through the carrots and onion slaughter, Kon wiped his hands clean on a towel. He tucked the terrycloth into the belt of his apron as he asked, “What next?”

 

And then stared in confusion at Tim.

 

“What…are you doing?”

 

Tim was half bent over the counter and a cup. A large spoon in his hand as he slowly sifted flour into the cup. “The recipe calls for one-third of a cup of flour and that is precisely how much flour I will measure out.”

 

“Its not like the pie will explode if you use a little more or less than the specified amount you know.” Kon tapped the cook book as he spoke, “A recipe is like a suggestion, not like a Bat rule book where you get fifty hours in the Bat gym and a lecture if you break the rules.”

 

Tim’s glare was dry and unamused as he put the bag of flour away. “Very droll. And that is highly inaccurate. A recipe has to be followed precisely or else the end result will not be optimum.”

 

“Optimum? Dude, can you hear yourself?” Kon mockingly tapped his ear, “Its _cooking_. Not chemistry!”

 

Tim rolled his eyes, irritation pouring off him in waves as he scooped up the chicken, carrots, celery and peas. “You clearly have _no_ idea about how much science is involved in cooking do you?”

 

“Tim. It’s a chicken pot pie. NOT….” Kon waved a hand as he tried to think of an appropriate comparison. “Napalm or dynamite! Its okay to go under or above the amounts written! Its called making a recipe your own.”

 

Tim was not amused by the analogy as he stirred the mix around. “Thank you Jamie Oliver for that insightful bit of advice. Are you gonna whip a baked Alaska out of thin air next and show off more of your cooking know-how?” Tim tapped the wooden spoon against the edge of the pan before picking up a measuring cup filled with water. “Please by all means, _dazzle_ me with your skills. The same skills which broke the waffle iron at the Tower. Pass me the onions.”

 

“Hey! THAT was because of a faulty wire okay! It shouldn’t reflect on my cooking skills.” He handed over the cup of chopped onions as he snorted, “I hardly think that a man who can’t even properly fry an egg can pass judgement on others cooking skills okay.”

 

Tim’s hand stopped stirring the onions and his head slowly turned up to look at Kon. His voice was even and dangerously blank as he asked, “And what exactly is wrong with the way I make fried eggs?”

 

“You’re kidding right?” Kon held up a hand as he ticked off the points, “The edges are all burnt, its hard as hell and they _always_ smell like fish for some reason!” The meta looked stumped at the last one, “I don’t even know how you do that man!”

 

A flush rose up from Tim’s collar as he added salt and pepper to the pot with quick jerky movements, “I happen to like my eggs like that.”

 

Kon ducked down to check the lasagna in the oven as he spoke, “Whatever Wonder Chef. I just know that sunny-side up eggs shouldn’t have a tan.” He paused for a moment before standing up straight, “Actually….”

 

Tim gave him a wary look, he knew that tone of voice well enough. It was Kon’s ‘I just had a thought…’ voice. “Given your cooking skills, it’s for the best that you follow the recipe exactly. Less chances of screwing up that way.”

 

The older boy didn’t even bat an eyelash as he picked up the bag of flour and pulled it open. Without a single shred of remorse, he proceeded to toss half of the bag contents on Kon’s cheeky grin. He calmly replaced the bag on the counter and picked up the cup filled with chicken broth, ignoring Kon’s angry spluttering.

 

Tim was half-way done pouring the translucent liquid into the pot when he found it ripped out of his hands and poured over his head. He stood in place, seemingly ignoring Kon’s quick bark of laughter before slowly opening his eyes. Narrowed blue eyes peered through wet strands of hair at the flour streaked meta.

 

Dropping the now empty measuring cup back on the counter, Kon’s grin was smug and wide, “Tit for tat, Bad Chef.”

 

“Oh shove it.” And with that warning, Tim picked up open can of tomato paste, scooped some of the red paste out and quickly carded his hair through Kon’s hair. “OYE!” Kon let out a yell as he attempted to jump back but wound up cornering himself against the counter. “Not the hair! Not the hair! NOT kool Tim!”

 

Robin smirked as he used both hands to spread the paste thickly into Kon’s dark hair. “Oh that is IT.”

 

—

 

Dick rocked on his heels after knocking on the apartment door. He look down the hallway as he waited, turning left and then right and then back at the door. He was looking forward to having dinner with his younger brother and Kon. It had been a while since they had managed to get together and just talk over some good food.

 

And speaking of things which were taking a while…Dick knocked again, sharper and louder. He frowned slightly at the lack of response. Tim was always prompt at answering the door…

 

Dick turned the doorknob and found it to be locked. _‘Well, no surprise there._ ’ The older man pulled out a set of keys, sifting through them before singling one out. _‘Hope Tim won’t mind that I made a copy._ ’ For emergency purposes obviously…and for occasionally dropping by unannounced to tease his younger brother. But he didn’t need to know _that_ particular little point.

 

As he threw the door open, he was graced with the sight of his younger brother holding his boyfriend in a headlock while rubbing…something red into his head while the other man was rubbing…possible kneaded dough into Tim’s hair. And neither of them had noticed him standing in the doorway. Well, not that he was really surprised. They _were_ yelling rather loudly.

 

For a moment, Dick was completely dumbstruck as he watched the pair wrestle each other. And with no signs of stopping either. Dick took a breath, stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew. A piercing whistle rang through the apartment and straight to the hosts.

 

The pair immediately stopped, looking up in surprise at their guest. Dick gave the pair an amused look, “I’m gonna take a wild guess and assume that tonight’s dinner will be take out?”

 

Dick eyed the small trail of smoke that was starting to rise from behind the pair, “And I think something’s burning too…”


End file.
